


Mrs. And Mrs. Earp

by confusednerdling



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Mr and Mrs Smith AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 12:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15219032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confusednerdling/pseuds/confusednerdling
Summary: Prompt: “I've got a Mr and Mrs Smith prompt suggestion for the wayhaught fandom. I believe the personalities depicted in the movie match for both ladies.“OrWhen Waverly, a secret agent, unknowingly marries another secret agent of a different organization, things get complicated when they are sent on the same mission to kill the same target.





	Mrs. And Mrs. Earp

It was quick. Five (or maybe six) years, and suddenly they were in this nice house in the city living together, existing together, intertwined by marriage. The house was nice. It was in close distance to Waverly’s sister. That part was important. It was in a well-protected area. That part was also important. It was in a sleepy little suburbia. Nicole was beautiful. Waverly was beautiful. They loved each other. The problem was, well… The problem was there was a problem.

They didn’t talk. Well, they did. But not about work stuff. No. Work stuff was private. (Because Nicole was a secret agent.) (Because Waverly was a secret agent.) 

But now there’s therapy. And, Nicole insists it’s just to check under the hood of the metaphorical car, but Waverly doesn’t really believe that. Not fully.

Waverly’s mind flickers back to their last “riveting” conversation – what type of filling was in the donuts that Wynonna brought over. “There’s this huge space between us and it just keeps filling up with everything that we don’t say to each other,” Waverly says one day, sitting across from the therapist. “What’s that called?”

“Marriage,” the doctor says.

\---

Thankfully, Nicole is sweet and considerate. She doesn’t mind when Waverly’s job interferes with their night plans. She doesn’t notice when Waverly is skillfully balancing on chairs to fix the new curtains they got or when she cuts the chicken she can do it lighting fast. She doesn’t find it odd how agile Waverly is. Or that there’s a leather dress in the back of their closet that smells like cigar smoke that Waverly has used to seduce and kill a man, but, well, Nicole doesn’t know that part of the story, certainly. Waverly credits herself mainly and Nicole’s obliviousness that she’s managed to keep this secret so long.

—-

Thank God Waverly’s so oblivious and naive and wonderful. Nicole comes home with lipstick stains on her collar, but Waverly doesn’t notice. Nicole leaves to the bar and gets a few bruises on her knuckles which is impressive because she took out a whole bar full of crooks. Nicole sneaks to the garage to tuck a gun in her waistband, and Waverly has no idea. It’s perfect.

—-

Work keeps them busy and apart. Waverly comes to work in a suit, gun strapped to her and a knife in her sock, and there’s a level of adrenaline rippling through her that she can’t just forget.

“Hey, babygirl,” Wynonna leers from her desk. “How’s the missus?”

“Wonderful. Sweet,” Waverly says. There’s an inkling of guilt in her chest. It gets harder to ignore when she’s here at the BBD headquarters. “She made dinner last night actually. It was wonderful. And then she gave me the absolute best foot rub and – ”

Wynonna pretends to vomit. “I asked how she was, not for your domestic bullshit,” She spins around and grabs a file from her desk. “This will shut you up – Constance Clootie. Alias, the Stone Witch. She’s being moved into some federal prison thing, and we need to get her to shut up. Permanently,”

“Near the border?” Waverly reads the paper again. It seems she’ll have to tell Nicole about a very “special conference” coming up. “And you’re sending me?”

“Yup. I want the very best. And the very best is you, babygirl,”

“You’re sweet,”

Wynonna shrugs. “Don’t tell anyone. Now, go kill the bitch. You get one shot,”

\---

Waverly sits in her base, overlooking the strip of road that Clootie would be driving down. Wonderful. Everything is going smoothly. At least, that what Wynonna has said in the various updates. The perimeter is armed with explosives. The base is perfectly in view of the road but just in hiding. All the equipment is working soundly. Waverly smiles to herself. She loves it when things are perfectly planned. She’s a planner, after all.

\---

Nicole rips through the desert with a bandana blocking her face and her baseball cap blocking her face as music blasts. Constance Clootie. Her newest target.

“Could you make any more noise, Haught?” Nicole hears Xavier Dolls’ voice through her ear piece.

“Sorry, Marshall, but I like to have fun while I work,” Nicole laughs. She spins the car around, dust flying everywhere, and pokes her head out. There’s the strip of the road that Constant Clootie will be coming down. Perfect.

“Just get the job done, Haught,”

“With pleasure, sir,” She pops the trunk open, smiling down at the bazooka before her. “Did Doc pick out the gun, sir?”

“You know how he is with his explosives,”

Nicole smiles and picks it up. God, she vowed silently to herself that she’d never, ever get out of this field of work. It’s just too much fun. “I really shouldn’t be allowed to use these things,” she whispers to herself as she picks it up.

\---

“Shit,” Waverly squints. “Shit. Shit. Shit,” She unplugs her laptop quickly. “There’s some random guy here triggering the explosives,”

“Well, turn it off!” Wynonna shouts in her ear piece.

“I’m trying!” Waverly looks up. Tall. Slender shoulders. Listening to annoying music. And…holding a bigass gun. “Shit. Not a random. Not a civilian,”

“Not a civilian? Do you need help? I can get the team there,”

“I got this,” Waverly grabs the gun at her side. She wishes it was a weapon she was more comfortable with like a shotgun, but this will suffice for the long distance. She looks through the scope. She can’t make out the face of this asshole, but one shot and he’s falling on the ground.

\---

Nicole falls over. Pain flaring up. But she’s wearing Kevlar. She always wears Kevlar, so she knows she’ll just bruise. But her first thought goes to Waverly. How on Earth will she explain a giant bruise to Waverly? Maybe, she can say she fell over at work. Yeah. That might work.

“Haught? You okay?”

“Fine, but shots were fired, sir,” she says. She really hopes Dolls doesn’t notice the strain in her voice.

“From Clootie?”

“I don’t think so, sir. I don’t have eyes on Clootie,” Nicole gets up with a groan, flicking the bullet away. Maybe switching to a desk job wouldn’t be so bad. She raises the gun up, pointing it in the direction of the shot. “Looks like there’s someone else here, sir. Someone’s made a base,”

“Take them out,” Dolls orders. “I have lunch with Wynonna and I need to be back in the city in three hours,”

“Rodger that, sir,” Nicole presses the trigger and watches as the little wooden base explodes. She wishes Doc was here to see this. That guy really did have a thing for explosions.

She watches for a moment the beautiful destruction, but she hears an engine roaring. She whips her head around, expecting Clootie, the armed cars, the protection, but it’s just a small person on the back of motorcycle. Her shooter.

“Did you get them?”

“No,” Nicole frowns. She lowers her gun. “No, they’re getting away,”

\---

Waverly storms into the office with blood dripping from her scalps and stiches now on her back.

“Who was that shit-ticket? I want to know who that shit-ticket was! Because of them, our window closed!” Waverly screams.

“You heard her!” Wynonna shouts, jumping from her desk. “Come on, girls. We need to review the tapes! Find out who that person is!”

\---

Nicole taps her forearm nervously. “Well, Jeremy?”

Jeremy is standing over the only piece of equipment Nicole had found in the wreckage of the base – a little old laptop.

“Stop breathing down my neck! Look I think – I think I can get us an address, just give me a second!” Jeremy squeaks. He fiddles with it some more, and Nicole really has no idea what he’s doing. It doesn’t seem to make any sense, but soon he jumps up. “Got an address! I have got an address! Here! Sending it to your phone!”

Nicole grins and places it on her phone’s address, but… Her stomach clenches. Her heart stops.

“Jeremy, this can’t be right… This is…” But she doesn’t dare say it. She can’t. How could she possibly. It’s Waverly’s work address.

\---

“Well? Anything?” Wynonna says, and Waverly stares at the video. And that figure. That hair. The clothes. Waverly rubs the bridge of her nose.

“I need to go see my wife,”

“Your wife? What does a booty call with Haughtstuff have to – “

“Wynonna, I need to go see my wife!”

\---

Dinner is always at seven. Always. Nicole steps into the house cautiously. “Waves? Baby?” And there she is. Her beautiful wife. Brown hair down, a crop top like usual and high-waisted jeans and beautiful smile, holding two drinks.

“Baby, I poured you something,”

Nicole takes it, and she looks down. It’s her wife. It’s her wife, but why does have the suspicion that something other than alcohol is in the glass. “I think I’ll pass,”

“You never pass,” Waverly’s eyes narrow.

“Well, I think I would like some red wine instead,” Nicole says. And it something so normal. But why does it feel like a challenge?

“Red wine it is. But I doubt it’ll pair nicely with – “

“Sweet and sour soup?” Nicole guesses. “Your favorite?”

“Of course. With a dollop of peanut butter. You know me well,”

Everything feels tense. Everything feels like an unspoken battle.

“I do,” Nicole says. Her eyes flicker to the big knife right behind her wife. “So, how was work?” She knows how Waverly’s work was. Waverly was off trying to shoot her.

“It was fine,” Waverly says casually. “Yours?” But Waverly knows how Nicole’s work was. Nicole was trying to blow Waverly up with a goddamn bazooka.

“Interesting. A lot of new developments,” Nicole says. There’s silence. A thick silence. “I’ll get the wine,”

“Yes,” Waverly swallows thickly. She feels it too. The tension. It’s suffocating. “Get the wine. It’s above the fridge,”

Nicole walks carefully and swings open the cabinet. She checks behind her where Waverly stands, fingers running along the rim of her glass. Nicole never felt this way before. Like her wife could stab her in the back. Like she wouldn’t be safe near her wife. “How’s Wynonna?”

“She’s fine. And Dolls?”

“Fine,”

“So, everything’s fine,”

“Perfectly fine,”

Then, the wine bottle falls. And Waverly’s foot flies forward and catches it.

Nicole can’t remember what happened next, because it all went so quickly. Did she jump forward to grab the knife or did Waverly kick the wine bottle in the air causing wine and glass to fly and for Nicole to duck to avoid it? Did Nicole chase Waverly screaming “BABY COME BACK”? Or did Waverly start running shouting “I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU, NICOLE”?

And Waverly’s in the car, slamming the door. “I trusted you!”

“Well, I trusted you!” Nicole shouts. “You shot me!”

“You blew me up!”

“You ruined my mission!”

“You ruined _my_ mission!” Waverly yells. “Wynonna is going – “

“So Wynonna is in on this too?”

“Is Dolls?”

Nicole doesn’t know what to say, but suddenly the car is starting.

“Baby! Baby! Get out of the car! Get out of the car! We need to talk!”

But the car is reversing, and Waverly is looking at Nicole sending her daggers with her eyes. And Nicole runs. She runs. Her long legs keeping up with the car. “WAVES!” she yelps. “COME ON!” But Waverly’s is pressing the gas and is reversing and reversing and suddenly the car surges forward and it’s going down the street. Nicole runs. She runs through the neighborhood. She knows the shortcuts, and she runs and runs.

“WAVERLY!” she screams, but the car is still going. And would this be a bad time for Nicole to mention she needs the car on Saturday to go down to Doc’s barbecue? Nicole runs. Nicole runs. She jumps the fence and her feet land hard on the street. She looks up. And against, better judgement, she throws the knife. It collides with the glass, and it shatters, and suddenly Waverly slams on the brakes.

Oh no.

Nicole pales.

“Nicole Haught,” Waverly growls, sticking her head out the window. “Did you just throw a _knife_ a me?”

“Okay! It was to get your attention! Not to hit you! Very important clarification! It was a mistake! I promise! I just need you to – “

And the car reverses.

“Really? Really? You’re going to hit me with a car? You’re being dramatic!” Nicole shouts out. She jumps, last minute. Her body landing against the pavement. And her bruise aches horribly, sending pain up and down her abdomen, and Waverly is stepping on the brake staring at her.

“We’re married! We have to talk about this!” Nicole calls out from the pavement. “God, where are you going to go?”

“My sister’s!” Waverly says indignantly. And the car is off. And Nicole is left on the ground.

\---

Waverly swings the door open, and there’s her sister. Her sister with a bottle of alcohol already pressed to her lips.

“Dolls left me,”

“Nicole tried to kill me,”

“Oh great. The Earps are killing it in the love department,” Wynona scoffs. “You hear that world? You hear that? WE’RE KILLING IT!”

Waverly plops down beside her sister. She’s exhausted. She’s really exhausted. And she can’t believe how tired she is. And all she wants to do is go home and cuddle with Nicole, but she really can’t. She can’t, because Nicole is an agent. A big bad, secret agent who tried to kill her. Or maybe Nicole’s an evil assassin.

“I trusted Dolls. I trusted him. You said he was a good guy that was good and worked with Nicole who was good. Turns out he’s a bad guy like bad Nicole and everything’s bad. And I’m going to shoot Nicole. Yup. That’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’m going to kill her,” Wynonna jumps up, but Waverly grabs her.

“When you’re sober, we’ll talk about…killing my wife,” And it’s a joke. At least, Waverly thinks it is, but there’s a dark, sinking feeling in her chest. “God, Nicole. My Nicole. Sweet foot-rubbing, dinner-making Nicole tried to kill me,”

“I’m going to kill her. She said my ass was top shelf, was that a lie too? Where do the lie ends?” Wynonna moans. She takes a long sip from the bottle.

\---

Waverly falls asleep on the couch with whisky on her lips and her thoughts on Nicole. Nicole couldn’t have tricked her. I mean, it’s Nicole. Nicole who constantly surprised her, who constantly loved her, who constantly supposed her.

There’s a creak. Then, another.

Waverly launches up, stick the gun out, and points it at the direction of the noise.

“Hello?”

And it’s weak. And it’s soft. And it’s not Waverly. It’s not Waverly who has seventy-seven kills under her belt. It’s not Waverly who has been learning to fight since Wynonna thought she was old enough. And Waverly can’t help but think it’s because she’s without Nicole. Nicole is where her true strength lies. Nicole helps her.

“Who’s there?” she says in a tougher voice.

It’s probably Wynonna. Or it’s nothing. It’s the house settling. But Waverly feels a shiver run and up her spine. She carefully get up and off the couch and walks, very slowly, with her gun extended. The house is dark and quiet. And Waverly turns the corner quickly and there’s a gun pointed at her and…

“Nicole?”

“Baby,” Nicole sighs in relief. She lowers her gun, but Waverly doesn’t lower hers. “Come on, baby. It’s me,”

“Who are you? Really?” Waverly snaps. Her hands shaking. And it never shakes. She never shakes, but it’s Nicole. She’s staring into brown eyes and looking at that beautiful red hair. And it’s her Nicole.

“Nicole Haught. I’m a top operative with a group called Purgatory PD. I remove dangerous, high level threats from society,” Nicole’s hands are up in an act of surrender. And for a woman so tall, she looks so small, so tiny. “Come on, baby,” she says softer. “Put the gun down,”

“No,” Waverly says. “No, I won’t,”

“Tell me, at least, who you are,”

“Like you don’t already know!”

“I don’t,” Nicole yelps. “In case you haven’t realized, I have no idea what’s going on! All I know is that you shot me!”

“You blew me up!”

“After you shot – “ Nicole takes a deep breath and lowers her hands. “Waves, you have to believe me. I didn’t know it was you,”

“I didn’t know it was you either,”

“So who are you?” Nicole asks again.

“You really don’t know?” Waverly says hesitantly. Because there’s a flicker of hope in her. A flicker of hope that can’t be stopped.

“No. I know the important stuff though. Like you carry your tension in your shoulders. You like sweet and sour soup with a dollop of peanut butter. You love Wynonna, history, learning dead languages. You watch Brooklyn 99 and relate the most to Amy Santiago – “

“Of course. Her binder system is so efficient,” Waverly nods.

“ – and I know we got married five years ago,”

“Six,” Waverly corrects her.

“Right. Six. And when we met, you were a bartender in this small town,” Nicole’s shoulder drop. “And I know that I love you,” She blinks back tears. “But the person that rigged a system of bombs and was staying on a base in the mountain side and shot me and then survived an explosion and rode off on a motorcycle…. I don’t know them. At all. But I would like to. If you’d give me a chance,”

Waverly wipes away tears of her own. “And how do you know I’m not some assassin that married you in order to gain intel and kill you?”

“Well,” Nicole gulps loudly. “I don’t. But, I’m really hoping you’re not,”

There’s a long beat of silence before Waverly finally answers. “I’m not,” she says.

Nicole doubles over. “Oh, thank God!” she shouts in relief. “God, you really had me there for a second,”

“I’m Waverly Earp,” Waverly finally speaks up. “An operative for Black Badge Division with my sister. And… And, I’m the wife of a wonderful woman named Nicole Haught. Who I love,” Waverly clears her throat. She lowers the gun, and places it on the counter beside them. “So yeah. That’s me. That’s who I am,”

“You know this is crazy, right?” Nicole says a little breathlessly. She takes a step forward. “Me. You. Two operatives falling in love. Not knowing who the other is,”

“Yeah. Kind of seems impossible,”

“But that’s who we are, isn’t it? Absolutely impossible,”

“This will never work,” Waverly says, shaking her head. “I mean, what if another Clootie situation happens again?”

“Promise you won’t shoot me?”

“Promise you won’t blow me up?”

“Fine,”

“Fine,” And Nicole leans forward and kisses her. And this shouldn’t work. This shouldn’t work. But as Waverly kisses Nicole, hands roaming in the darkness of night. Waverly decides to be optimistic and hope the world will allow for one evening of impossibility. And perhaps, if they're lucky, a life time.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t watch this movie until I saw his prompt and it’s actually a really good movie. I enjoyed it. But I find it hard to think our girls will try and kill each other so I took some liberties. I hope you enjoy it. If you have a prompt or want a friend, hit me up on Tumblr at gayywords.


End file.
